


The Decayed and the Dusk Thereafter

by SpurOfTheQuill (NecroAngelic)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Apocalypse, Blood, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Gore, M/M, Other, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 20:33:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19708906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NecroAngelic/pseuds/SpurOfTheQuill
Summary: Two years after the unexplained tragedy that cast the world into apocalypse, Alfred F. Jones wanders the desolate sands of the western deserts to avoid the horrors of the Decayed that seek to grind living flesh between their teeth. At least, until he receives information suggesting that his twin brother, Matthew, may still be alive. Against all odds and more, he heads into the Decay-riddled cityscape in search of what may be his last living relative, and his last will to live.Zombietalia. I currently don't have a plan for this, but I'm itching to write an epic story about the beloved Hetalia characters so I'm just going to keep writing and see where it leads me. I love feedback and talking to readers about possible future plans for the story! If I (consciously) use an idea offered by a reader, I will give credit.





	The Decayed and the Dusk Thereafter

Blistering heat stung Alfred’s back. His chest heaved laboriously, aching with every dry breath he gasped into his lungs. When his lungs spasmed, he coughed red. His bleary mind rejected the reality that surrounded him; all he could focus on were the glasses, inches in front of his face and shattered on the pavement, and the pain. The scathing, lingering pain that radiated from the exit point of the ballistic wounds that had shot through his shoulder and out his back. Despite this, he thought himself to be lucky. He could be worse off right now.

Like the men who had shot him- now within the grasp of innumerable hands Alfred hoped would never touch his flesh. The wall of limbs, rolling and collapsing atop Alfred’s attackers, could only be preoccupied so long. He tore a part of his old high school Letterman jacket, the patches of success now meaningless, and hastily crammed the fabric into the bullet wound in his back. It was all he could do to suppress his wails of agony as he exacerbated the pain. Still, better this than bleeding out. What was left of his letterman he tied taut around his waist.

The blond man hadn’t the awareness to notice, but the screams of what were once his enemies had gone silent. Their bodies were dismantled in bite-sized chunks and strips of flesh and muscle from where jagged fingertips could grasp. Remaining was only the ever-familiar, ever-destitute drawl of moans in the air. Alfred was sick of that sound. It had come to make his stomach churn.

The pain hadn’t dulled, but his mind had at last grasped a goal. That concentration was enough to will his body to move. His legs, still shaking, hoisted his body from the ground- at first slowly, to regain his balance, then forward with heightened urgency. He had to get out of there.

Cover was plentiful in the city, but with every new building and street came a new set of unknown threats. How many would he encounter? How would he ensure his safety in sneaking past? Every possibility brought uncertainty, and in this “new world,” uncertainty often meant death.

He should have never come to this damned city in the first place.

But his dauntless heart wouldn’t let him meekly take the safe road. Not when he had someone to find.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first official fanfiction that I'm posting online... disregarding reader inserts from my early Hetalia days. Honestly I haven't written a story with intent to publish in years. Best of luck to me, yeah? I hope you all enjoy. 
> 
> I also have NO medical knowledge, complete disclaimer there. I try to envision what might be the closest to reality (in this case, tampons were made to plug bullet wounds, so for Alfred's back wound I figured plugging it with cloth would be... uh...) but I am a novice with all of this, so please bare with me and let me know what is more realistic. I may not edit the fic, but I will keep it in mind for future references.


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